reply to post by woodwytch
Hi again, Woodwytch and once again, thank you for your post.
Re: the anonymity thing (sounds pretentious, lol) .. no, no problems at all on ATS. Lots of support here, regardless. Much wider mix on ATS and
some very aware and astute members. It's been a joy, finding this place in fact. You can drop out for six months and when you return, can pick up
without missing a beat.
I enjoy being able to discuss openly here, to recount experiences that often beggar the imagination, and be amongst like souls.
When I was younger, I tended to judge others by my own standards. If told something in confidence ... that to me meant it stayed with me. It was
literally a shocking experience to learn that others didn't respect other's confidentality in the same way. And when it came to 'paranormal'
experiences, I was again shocked to the core when those in whom I'd confided recounted my experience to others in a way that made me sound almost
demented. ' Oooh ... you'd better not come with us ... you might bump into a ghost, right ? ' workmates would laugh if a social evening was
planned. What do you say to something like that ? Nothing. You just hold your head high and accept that basically, you're friendless amongst
people you have to be involved with on daily basis. It's lonely and it hurts. I didn't start out 'tough skinned'. I was sort of skinless at the
Or, to give another example: I used to share a house with two other girls. We'd known each other for years .. known each other well in some areas,
not that well in others. So there we were, sharing a house, a kitchen, bathroom, secrets, fears, etc. We got along pretty well. I was going out
with their brother, who used to come over to the house quite often. He was a bit wild. He'd had modifications done to his car which the police
weren't appreciative of, apparently. They'd told him to restore his car back to 'standard'. He wasn't inclined to do so .. you know how young
men are when they're at the stage their vehicle represents their masculinity to their mind .. and when all their mates' cars are throbbing weapons
of destruction with massive tail-pipes and motors that threaten the sound barrier, lol.
So, all this to explain something that the girls with whom I shared a house noticed .. yet I did not. Their brother (my boyfriend) used to run the
gauntlet of police determined to take his car off the road until he'd modified it. He enjoyed the challenge, I suppose. And in order to outfox the
police, he'd follow a different route each time in order to come over to visit his sisters and me. As well, he'd vary the times he took the trip,
again to outfox the police. So, even though he came to see us several times a week, we never knew when or via which route he'd be arriving.
As soon as he arrived, he expected us to throw open the doors of the vacant garage, in order he could zoom straight in from the street. Demanding boy.
Some sort of technicality, I think, would prevent the police from accosting him if the car was stationary and on private property. They'd have to
wait for him to take it back out on the public road, before they could give chase.
Ok. So there were the other girls and I, sitting most evenings in the living room, sewing or talking or watching tv. The house we rented was near a
railway station and the main shopping precinct, so usually, we kept the doors and windows closed. More often that not, the boyfriends of the other
girls would be there too, having something to eat, chatting, etc. It was a fairly busy little household. Would drive me crazy, these days, lol.
At this point, we fast-forward to a day or so after the other girls and I all went our separate ways. By this time, one of them was living with her
boyfriend and they were soon to be married. The other had moved back with her parents, I think. But on this day, we were all at the home of the one
who was soon to be married. She and her sister had been whispering together for a while, then later on, they told me that almost the entire time
we'd all shared a house ..... they had been petrified of me.
Petrified ? PETrified ? Of me ? As far as I was concerned, I was the one who'd been .. if not petrified .. then distinctly uncomfortable quite
often. They'd been very cliquey, those girls and their brother. I'd always felt on the outer. So now they were claiming to have been petrified of
me, when it was my precious little things that had always 'disappeared' ... some of which I'd found stuffed behind the big wardrobe when we were
moving. When I'd said to myself aloud ' Wonder how they got there?', one of the sisters laughingly told me that her older sister had shoved them
there, to 'pay me back'. 'Pay me back for what?' I'd asked .. and had been told it was to pay me back for being 'skinny'. Oh. Right. Ok. No
problem. It's my fault the older sister has a weight problem. Sure, stuff my precious little things for which I saved-up for weeks, behind a
wardrobe. Perfectly understandable. That's a mature approach.
Maybe I'm thin-skinned and need to 'get over myself', but I'll admit to being hurt (obviously, seeing I'm still ranting about it close to forty
years later) when they said they'd been petrified of me when we lived together, because I was a 'witch' and 'creepy'. I went red. I didn't
understand what they were on about, but I went red as a beet and wanted to sink through the floor.
And why was I a 'witch' ? Well, apparently, I would get up from what I was doing and go outside to open the garage doors. Then I'd prepare my
boyfriend's coffee the way he liked it.
This went on (I was told afterwards by his sisters) night after night, week in and week out, the entire time we lived in that house. I never said
anything, just got up and did those things, they said. And, within five minutes of my doing so ... apparently ... they would hear their brother's
car tooling carefully and quietly around corners .. virtually creeping into our garage, to evade the police (who probably had far better things to do,
That's it .. those are my apparent 'witch' credentials.
They then reminded me of how they'd both hired a locksmith to install locks on the inside of their bedroom doors. Yes, I remembered. I'd thought
at the time (and they'd claimed) that it was for 'security', because they had big, bulging 'glory-boxes' filled with expensive manchester and
other precious items. I didn't have any of those and in any case, couldn't afford the locksmith, so my door remained lock-free.
'We didn't get the locks for security,' they told me after we'd moved. 'We got them because we were scared of you.'
'Why were you scared of me' asked red-face.
'Because you're a witch'.
'Why am I a witch? I'm not.'
' How else could you know when X (their brother, my boyfriend) would be coming around to the house. No-one knew. So how do you explain the way you
always got up minutes before he arrived, opened the garage and had his coffee ready? It's because you're a witch. But it's ok .. we don't live
with you anymore. And we know you can't help it.'
Idiots. But it hurt. They told others I knew. And people like to have something that to their mind, elevates them in proportion to your reduced
status. Oh, another of my 'witch' credentials came when I broke up with their brother, because the minute I sat in his car's passenger seat to go
out, I said, apparently, ' You've had another girl in here.' I got out. Turned out I was right. He had. Still don't know how I knew. Just felt
A lifetime of similar situations has made me withdraw. But it's ok on forums, particularly ATS. If people toss insults, they can't reach me ..
it's Dock6 who takes the punch. And I don't even know Dock6 .. it's the name of a dock somewhere isn't it ?